


Sit Back And Watch

by WhatIfIAmInsane



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Lapdance, M/M, Stripper Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9051574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatIfIAmInsane/pseuds/WhatIfIAmInsane
Summary: Prompt fill: You live across from me in our apartments and we smile when we see each other but we don’t really know each other and oh you’re the stripper at my friend’s hen night fuck this is really uncomfortable.Sherlock is the stripper at Sarah's hen night and John realises who exactly lives across the hallway. No matter the profession, Sherlock still likes to show off.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for a prompt I found on one of those endless prompt-lists on tumblr. The idea somehow stuck and here you have a short, 2 chapter story [though I'm not sure when I'll finish the 2nd chapter. I'm shooting for the end of this month the latest].

John was living in a small flat within a medium sized apartment complex. After his return from war, he couldn’t afford too far leaps but it was enough for a nice home. The flat didn’t need to be too sizeable since the Doctor was alone and somehow he was quite sure that wouldn’t change too soon. Besides, like this he was able to put aside a bit of money from his job at the small private clinic. All in all, John really couldn’t complain.

He didn’t mind living on his own, at least like this he had full control over what happened inside his flat. What he wasn’t used to, was the anonymity and indifference the people all around him were displaying. There was only one neighbour, who lived directly opposite John’s flat, shaking up the world around them a bit. John usually went out early in the morning for a run before his shift started. It was something he had gotten used to as part of his recovery. So whenever he left for his run, his neighbour was just coming home, unlocking the door on the other side of the narrow hallway. They never shared a worded greeting, only a small nod and smile but that was enough to make John feel not completely alone. He didn’t know what his neighbour did at night but it seemed to be draining. The other’s shoulders were usually hunched over in exhaustion and the eyes small. He seemed to be one of those people who were making use of the city’s sheer endless need for late night workers. It had become a much loved routine for John. Sometimes they also met in the afternoon or early evening, but those were never predictable. What never changed though were the short nod and smile.

 

 

John had just gotten past his last patient for the morning, ready to take his lunch break when a smiling Sarah slid into his room.

“A little bird just told me you are done for the morning”, she closed the door behind her, habit of a doctor.

“Tell me where it is. I’ll have to kill it”, John chuckled, setting his pen down and closing the file on his desk.

“Oh stop being such a bad sport”, Sarah giggled, “Got time to have lunch?”

“With you? Always”, John smiled as sweet as sugar.

She had been the one to conduct the initial interview when John had applied after returning from service and physical recovery. In the beginning, John had thought about taking her out. At the first glance she had been exactly his type. Her hair was flowing smoothly down her back. She was confident, professional and intelligent. All the qualities John usually went looking for. This time though, he had done his best to build up a friendship. After the war, friends were very rare in his life and his therapist had encouraged him to change that. Now he knew that with Sarah it had been the better decision. They had grown close quickly and today John would be spending his evening on her hen night. Turns out, medical professionals had just as few friends as ex-army doctors and so John would play the proverbial cock of the walk. He really didn’t mind and even had volunteered for the duty of designated driver. There was nothing wrong with keeping a sober eye on three, by the end of the night, probably very tipsy women. Like this he at least knew that his friend could have a very carefree night out with her girls. Obviously, Sarah didn’t have a clue yet so John would have to keep his mouth shut for the course of the now apparently jointly spent lunch break.

Sarah had quite a few things on her mind when they had finally found a place to eat. Their lunch in front of them, the words came bubbling out of her mouth.

“You don’t imagine how much there is still to do”, she was complaining, “I mean, the wedding is just about a week away. We have organised almost everything, you should think. But now there are suddenly things like manicures, hairdresser appointments, and final rehearsals looming.”

John laughed and stabbed a tomato form his plate. “I can imagine. Your mother probably has filled your schedule to the brim, hasn’t she?”

Sarah groaned, “Don’t remind me. She’s been non-stop talking about the wedding for weeks now. I really need a break.”

“You’ll get one on your honeymoon”, John reminded her.

“If she were allowed, she would be sitting right next to me the entire time.”

“She isn’t, so keep calm”, John hummed, “Mothers can be a bit much but let her have this. You are her only child.”

The break passed very light-hearted. John was glad that Sarah’s maid of honour had planned a hen night that would let the female doctor forget a bit about the stress. As far as he had heard, Sarah’s mum had asked but the girls had pretended that the bride hadn’t wanted a night out and they were honouring that decision. John took another look at his friend and was trying to imagine how she would like the night which would follow up their admittedly boring week.

 

 

John checked for the last time if he had everything on him before he pulled the door to his flat close. He patted down his jacket front to locate his wallet and then locked his door. Just as he turned around to leave, he felt an impact. Out of pure reflex, he stepped back immediately and started to apologise.

“Sorry, really I am so sorry. I should have..”

“No, it’s fine”, a deep, dark voice interrupted him.

John looked up startled. The neighbour he had been exchanging nothing but nods and smiles with for months now, was standing just a hairsbreadth in front of him. Suddenly, he didn’t quite know how to react anymore.

“I’ll just..”, his neighbour pointed towards the end of the hallway, “I need to go to work. Have a nice evening.” With a last smile, he slang a bag over his shoulder and left John standing there rooted to the ground. Everything he might have expected his neighbour to possess, John hadn’t imagined it to be a silky soft voice. Now he felt like it was almost a shame that they never spoke with each other. On a second thought, John wasn’t sure if he would be a great conversationalist in respect to that situation. With a shook of his head John set off. There would be enough time to work up the courage to hear that voice again, after all they were living just a small hallway apart from each other. Sarah’s hen night on the other hand would start in half an hour and John needed to get there now.

 

“Oh god, you’re not here, too”, Sarah screamed giddily and threw her arms around John’s neck. The rest of the girls had already decked the doctor out with everything a future bride needed on her hen night. John felt a bit out of place but he had promised to be there.

“Apparently I am”, John chuckled.

“You are all so mad”, Sarah laughed and beamed at her small group of friends.

“Wait for what we still have planned”, her maid of honour smirked. “This will be unforgettable.”

 

John had diligently driven the girls first to dinner and then to a bar, where they had now spent quite some while dancing, drinking and having fun in general. Although he wasn’t drinking himself, John had to admit to having a great time. It was enjoyable and finally a way to forget everyday life. He was only a bit sceptic about the big showstopper that was planned. So far the night had been sweet but nothing quite fitted to what had been announced. Dinner and drinks really wasn’t that unforgettable. There still had to be something big waiting.

“Okay, everyone listen up”, Anna, Sarah’s maid of honour, stood up and was motioning with her hands to stop the small group from talking. “We all know how this goes. This is said to be your last night in freedom, Sarah.” She grinned cheekily and the doctor blushed, biting her lip. John had to grin. Sarah still wasn’t comfortable with being the centre of attention although she ran a clinic. “I have asked Dominc what we were allowed to plan for you and what not. So you can rest assured that everything I thought of was signed off by your man, no need to feel guilty about enjoying yourself.”

John perked up at that announcement. What could Anna possibly have planned that needed the future husband to allow it to happen? After all this wasn’t a usual stag night with skimpy dancers, or was it really the direction they wanted to go in? Were there even good male dancers? John just assumed it would have to be a male stripper because Sarah did not seem the type for liking women, too.

“Oh god, Anna. What did you do?”, Sarah sounded slightly horrified but also seemed intrigued. She looked around the private enclosure, Anna had rented for their party. You could still hear the sounds from the club, the music filtering through the thin walls and curtains, but you were very much for yourself. John had been positively surprised at the location the girls had found. He was sitting on a chair at the edge of the group, his water looked a bit out of place between the other’s sweet and colourful cocktails.

“I just got us something nice to look at.”; Anna grinned cheekily. “Sarah, really it’s all fine. There is just one rule: You can only look, not touch.” Anna had gotten quite serious. “Dominic would be fine with whatever you decided to do since he trusts you. But I made the deal with the hottie and that was the ground rule.”

So there would be a dancer. Well, John could appreciate a good body so he did not think he would have a problem with the show program. Okay, a woman might have been nicer for him, but this was Sarah’s night and if the guy wasn’t totally incompetent, he would also enjoy it.

“Understood”, Sarah nodded eagerly, “It’s not a problem, I can be behaved.”

“That’s what I told him, too.”, Anna grinned, “So, that is really all I had to say before this. I hope we enjoy it, well I hope you enjoy it since I know I will.” John realised that she was very self-assured. Something told him this would be interesting.

 

When they all had settled down a bit and the suspension had risen, the music in their small place got turned up a bit. It was the same as in the club but now it was much more prominent for them. The girls were giggling excitedly and John gripped his glass a tad tighter.

With the first glimpse he caught of the lean body, dressed in criminally tight shirt and trousers, John swallowed his breath. Suddenly, he was very glad, he had retreated quite far towards the back. How could it be? No, there was no doubt when the dancer turned slowly, peeking upwards from underneath a curly fringe. His neighbour; the one with the voice like liquid sex. John shifted slightly on his chair. He really wasn’t sure if he wanted to add what was about to happen to his memory. Although there really wasn’t time for second thoughts on his part. Almost as soon as his brain had made the connection between the stripper Anna had hired and his next door neighbour, said man began what could only be called a very calculated but more than effective show.

John almost completely forgot about everything around him. His attention zeroed in on a sight he had never expected. His neighbour was perfectly adapted. The tight jeans and shirt did almost nothing to hide from view how well he was suited for this line of work. John swallowed hard. He knew he was outside the dancer’s focus and suddenly he was glad about it. The way the other managed to make his movements seem absolutely effortless, let John’s jeans grow just a bit too tight.

When the shirt came off with a practiced swoop and accompanying cheer by the ladies, John didn’t even notice at first. He already had been transfixed by the long lines of muscles visible under the thin fabric and their movement. Taking away the bit of clothing didn’t make it any more sexual. Hell, John already felt like the temperature had risen several degrees since the performance started.

 

At no point did John dare to look up into the face of the dancer again. Somehow he felt like that would be the moment his illusion of not being seen himself would be shattered. Additionally, he wasn’t sure if he would quite survive such a daring move. It was one thing to see that beautiful body move as one with the music, pushing his mind to envision slightly different scenarios, but quite another to actively connect it to his neighbour. The deep voice still resonated in John’s head and there was a faint memory of razor sharp eyes. He really didn’t want to take a chance.

The sane thing probably would have been to just stop looking. After all this was for Sarah and she definitely got the most attention. No matter how hard John tried though, his eyes would never move for longer than a few fleeting seconds and even then he felt a slight pain of regret, being sure he had missed something vital. It all was ridiculous, but this definitely was the most transfixed he had ever been by anyone.

 

When the show was over, John felt like waking up from a trance. He had no idea how much time had passed, if any at all. The dancer was a professional through and through. Even as he was making his exit, he kept being a bit cheeky and playful, which earned him a lot of giggles from the girls. In his head John tried to rewind what just had happened. He realised it was all more a blur than something sharply cut. For a moment, he mourned the loss but he was sure that simply the impression and feelings he got from the performance would make for heated material. Well, at least they would if afterwards he’d ever be able to leave his flat again.

 

 

John took advantage of a moment when the group of girls was starting to get tired. He quickly got them back home to Sarah’s where they were as fresh as daises again, already opening the next bottle. Without too much fuss John managed to get himself out of the house and back on his way home. Obviously not without having them vow that they were not setting another step outside the door in the state they were in. All girls happily smiled and nodded, so John didn’t feel too bad about going home.

He didn’t really want to think too much about what had happened. But god, that image would be burned into his mind forever. He was entirely sure that his eyes must have been as big as saucers as he watched the dancer, his bloody neighbour, writhe in front of them. Surely there had been nothing to suggest that profession, had there? John didn’t think he was that blind. He had been meeting this man every morning for the past three months now. How could he never have noticed a hint at the other’s day or better night job?

 

John sighed as he parked his car and turned off the motor. He let his head fall back against the headrest. He had no idea how to ever look into the other’s eyes again – well, at least without blushing and getting an instant hard on. Obviously, he could change his daily routine but that would not solve his problem. Somehow John wasn’t even sure if he wanted to avoid the other. It seemed like he had an amazingly desirable human living a few feet across from his flat. Who could resist that for long?

The doctor groaned. He should get up and into his flat before he thought too much about the dancer. Rolling his shoulders once more he got out of his car and made his way to his home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said there were going to be 2 chapters, didn't I? Ehrm, let's say there are going to be 3 now. Sorry.

The hallway appeared to be empty when John had reached his level. The lights flickered on and he almost breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed like he would get a grace period to decide how to act or if he should act at all. Really, he should catch up on a bit of the alcohol he missed that night, the sensations in his head were still too vivid.

John was leaning slightly against his door, as he pushed the key in and clicked the lock open. He was just about to leave the hallway.

“It was your boss turned friend’s hen night, wasn’t it?” a low voice called through the hallway.

John jerked around, trying to find the source of the voice. His neighbour came sauntering down the carpeted floor as if it was an expensive fashion show. A duffle bag was casually hanging down from one shoulder, he was wearing a dark pair of slacks and deep blue button up. Nothing there to tell what job he practiced during the night. John was obviously staring and could only just keep his mouth from dropping open. He knew his neighbour was handsome, you pick up on that after a few impromptu meetings in the corridor. But after tonight, after knowing what that body could do, the guy was drop-dead gorgeous.

“Enjoyed yourself at least a bit?” there was a smug smiled accompanying the remark.

John was fumbling for a coherent thought. He was too tired for this stuff. “Ehrm… yes, I mean it was fine…” That was a grand understatement, John was well aware of it.

“Fine?” one eyebrow arched up perfectly as he looked at John doubtingly. John suddenly felt like caught in the headlights. He felt as if he was opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water, unable to explain himself or even answer.

“Well, it wasn’t quite your style, too soft and careful for your taste. Still, I would argue _fine_ shouldn’t have been your descriptor of choice.”

Just when the pale eyes were flicking up and down his body, John was somewhat awoken from his stiffness. “Sorry, is there something wrong with my clothes?” he cleared his throat and stepped back as far as his door would allow, trying to get a bit of distance between himself and the other.

“No, at least if you weren’t referring to their horrible quality.” the man grinned “I was just seeing if I was right.”

“Right about what?” John couldn’t help but be a little curious.

“About how I would need to push you to get something better than _fine_.” a certain degree of mirth tinged the comment. John needed to blink a few times, making sure he had just got that correctly.

With a lot more control and calm than he expected, he asked “And were you?”

His neighbour’s eyes seemed to light up, as if he had spotted a challenge. He tilted his head slightly to the side and with an impossibly smooth voice said: “Care to find out?”

 

Before John could react with anything more than a surprised expression, the other had turned around and was walking towards his own door.

“I need to shower first, give me ten minutes and I’ll be over.” He called nonchalantly over his shoulder. John was still taken aback, not sure if he being offered a private dance by that man wasn’t just a very wistful dream after all.

It felt awkward to say nothing and just stand there in his open door. Therefore he called out the first thing which came to his mind, “I don’t even know your name.”

The other man had nearly disappeared into his own flat as he turned around. “It’s Sherlock Holmes, see you in ten.” With a small smirk and something that could definitely have been a wink, the door on the other side of the hallway clicked shut.

 

John took a deep breath. Okay, so much for processing the incidents of the evening in peace. He must be absolutely mad. Dazed John walked into his flat and looked around. He couldn’t imagine Sherlock, weird name but it seemed oddly fitting, in these surroundings. John looked down his own body and contemplated the other’s words. Shower. Well, if someone who was bloody gorgeous wanted to come to give you a private dance show, you could also make an effort to not reek like an entire club.

Lightning quick John had pulled of his clothes and stepped under the shower. Military had taught him to be efficient and with that he only needed a fraction of the ten minutes he had. Still, he fussed quite badly about his clothes and the state of his flat. It was slightly maddening because John had no idea why he cared about all this. In the end, he had straightened out his small flat a little and decided to not bother with socks. Hopefully, it would look casual enough to hide John’s nervousness.

As the minutes ticked by slowly, John had some time to think back. He was curious about what he could expect, there was no way to deny that. What Sherlock had done in the club, had been… pretty. John had appreciated how the long, sinuous body had twisted and turned to the music, highlighting perfectly defined muscles and just poking a bit at your imagination. Sarah had been totally enthralled by it and none of the girls had really stopped talking for long about that show afterwards. Anna really had landed a hit. Still, Sherlock’s words were ghosting through John’s mind ‘ _how would I need to push you to get something better than fine?’._ John felt like what was to come would firmly put him in the place of prey rather than predator. It sent a feeling of excitement racing down his spine. He just assumed that if Sherlock really wanted to, he could be downright dirty instead of softly suggestive. Sarah probably would have fallen off her chair but John couldn’t wait. Now, he had only one question remaining: Was he even deserving of the offer?

Before he could sink too deep into the question and insecurities there was a short, loud knock echoing from the door. Obviously, his time was up. John swallowed hard and went to open the door.

 

“Ah, I see you took the hint”, Sherlock smiled smugly as he stepped into John’s flat, long fingers twiddling with a sleek, black IPod. 

John was glad he could just about manage to close the door again. He hadn’t really spent a lot of thought on what Sherlock would look like. Foolishly, he had just assumed to see the same figure as in the hallway or perhaps dressed like he had been in the club. There he had already speculated how much of the show had been planned to perfection. The current sight just spectacularly confirmed that suspicion. Sherlock had changed into impossibly tight, black leather trousers. They looked expensive and were moulding themselves like a second skin around the lean legs and when John caught a sight of the plush arse in them, his throat went dry.

“While I’m glad you are not disinclined by my body, there are rather a few organisational things to discuss.” Sherlock chuckled, clearly amused.

John’s eyes snapped up to Sherlock’s face, cheeks tinged red. “Ehrm, yeah sure. What do you need?” The trousers had caught him off guard, especially since he was trying to figure out if anyone else but Sherlock could look this enticing in the same clothes. The simple, deep V-neck just amplified the effect of the low cut trousers and John was working hard to keep himself in check.

The devious smirk hadn’t left Sherlock’s lips as he held up his IPod between long, graceful fingers, “I know you have a docking station for this. We’ll need it.”

“Yes, of course. Should I… take it?” John cleared his throat and held out one hand hesitantly. 

“Sure, why not.” Sherlock handed over the small device, brushing his fingers against the skin of John’s hand. The weight of the IPod in his hand was amplified a thousandfold as John felt his skin prickling where they touched. Was this already part of what Sherlock had planned? John had already felt thoroughly out of control, the moment he had opened the door. Now, he was just hanging on for dear life as he went over to connect the other’s IPod.

“For one, you’ll need a chair”, Sherlock hummed and quickly grabbed one of John’s kitchen chairs, spinning it around in the air as if it weighed nothing. “Sit down, having you stand around awkwardly just makes it more difficult.” His voice stayed matter of factly, although it didn’t help to ease off the buzz under John’s skin. He doubted anything would really pull him down right now, as he sat down, looking up. Sherlock had walked around the perimeter of the available open space, probably to familiarise himself with the surroundings.

“You need to follow two rules.” Sherlock said as he finally turned around, standing next to the IPod docking station, and fixed his gaze on John who suddenly felt unable to look at anything but those eyes, “You were a soldier, you should be good with those.” Sherlock tilted his head slightly to the side, making a few dark curls fall across his forehead. It momentarily distracted John, having him think about how they would feel if he ran his hands through them. Just as he wanted to open his mouth to answer, Sherlock interjected.

“Number one: No talking”, John’s mouth snapped shut again which earned him a lopsided smirk in return. “Number two: Keep your hands off me” John swallowed. He feared that one would be a lot harder to follow but he was determined to not screw up whatever was about to happen. He hadn’t had this much excitement in quite a while so he was high on the adrenaline buzzing through his system.

“If you must, grip the chair.” Sherlock said, his voice translating exactly how serious he was about the rules. John simply nodded, wanting to give an acknowledgement, and clasped his hands together.

“Very good”, John could swear that Sherlock’s eyes had flashed as he fell back into the persona which had taken John so aback earlier. “I think we can begin”

Those words were the last ones spoken for quite a while. As Sherlock hit the play button all of John’s attention abruptly focused on the other. The world could have crumbled around him, he wouldn’t have noticed. The sudden intensity made John take a gulping breath, sure he would be short of it in no time at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. Thank you for entertaining one of my moods.
> 
> P.S. I used Beyoncé's Naughty Girl to write this chapter. Research told me it's a preferred song for lap dances and I have no experience whatsoever with them, so I believed the internet.

As the music started, John realised that he recognised the song Sherlock had chosen. It was a quite well known pop tune but any further contemplations were just out of the realm of the possible. The first drawn out note sprung Sherlock into action and subsequently turned off John’s brain. Sherlock twisted and turned his body in perfect sync with the music, letting his muscles work at a languid pace. Since he was standing quite a few steps away still, it looked almost as if he had erased John’s existence. He seemed to be dancing for himself, rolling his head back and running the tips of his fingers up his body. On occasion, he pushed his hips out to the side just slightly, hinting at what he could do if he fancied. John knew the coyness was only a farce but the way Sherlock moved his body almost as if he had forgotten he was doing so, made him want. The feeling was simmering deep down inside him. He wanted to hold, wanted to touch, wanted to feel that body move against his. It was almost scary what not even a minute of watching Sherlock dance did to him.

Suddenly the melody picked up its pace. Sherlock timed his moves perfectly to the new beat, his body shamelessly using every accent provided. Just like earlier in the club, John was completely enthralled. The rational part of his brain knew, this was all designed to make him gasp for more, it was all just a game. John’s only problem was though that the rational part had just been slaughtered and left to die. He had to bite his lower lip, letting the pain be something real within the haze of lust. He was hard pressed to find a moment he remembered feeling anything even close to this before.

Perhaps the poor state of his mental faculties could be made responsible for not having noticed Sherlock moving closer. John felt like one moment the other had stood a safe distance away and with the snap of a finger, he was looming over him, both hands pressed against the back of the chair. For a moment John actually stopped breathing. When Sherlock pushed himself off smoothly for a ridiculously sexy and fast turn which lead to some kind of move that brought him quite near the ground and up again, showing off that plush arse just a bit too clearly, John actually gripped the seat of the chair. He realized how hard the ‘no touching’ rule would be to honour, especially since Sherlock didn’t seem to be in a hurry to move away. More than that, John actually had to swallow hard when another dip in the tempo of the music occurred and Sherlock apparently threw all caution to the wind, starting to writhe hard on John’s lap.

Really, there was nothing left for John, he was hopelessly caught in the sight. He should have been embarrassed at his straining erection but all he could focus on was the tantalising body just out of his reach. He suspected that part of this raging sensation was that he wasn’t allowed to touch. John only got what Sherlock wanted to give and it was driving him positively insane.

Just when John thought it couldn’t get worse, Sherlock pulled his shirt off with a practiced move. The black T-Shirt landed some good distance away from them and suddenly John was facing a very naked, pale and absolutely gorgeous torso. There was nothing to deny – Sherlock knew what he was doing and he had the looks.

Later, John would feverishly deny the whining sounds which escaped his throat when Sherlock let a few waves of body rolls cumulate in rubbing himself quite clearly against John. Not only was the shift of muscles below soft skin all John could see at that point, but his knuckles had turned white from the force he used to anchor his hands to the chair. The want to touch had grown so strong that every bit of contact Sherlock offered through his dance, made John’s arousal surge.

 

Whatever this had been planned as out on the hallway in front of their flats, it was developing quickly into a lot more. Out of nowhere, John felt a pair of lips pressing against his own. It took a moment of utter shock before he realised Sherlock had tipped himself forward and with hands pushing against his shoulders, was kissing him. As soon as the realisation hit John, he moaned which Sherlock just used to sweep his tongue inside John’s mouth. A moment ago this had been just a dance and now they were here, making out like love-crazed teenagers. John still wasn’t allowed to touch but Sherlock had never put up a rule against kissing back. They might already have been way past rules but John steadily held on to them. None of them said anything against him catching Sherlock’s bottom lip and gently pulling on it with his teeth, though.

“Touch me”, Sherlock growled. His voice having the raspy edge of someone who just had pushed his body through a bit of a work out.

The request came so sudden for John that at first he didn’t understand. His mind was still reeling from the dance and the kiss. God, that bloody kiss. He could swear he had never felt anything more lovely than those plush lips against his.

“John”, Sherlock moaned, hands tightly fisted into the other’s shirt, “Touch me, please.”

Perhaps the please or the moan managed to penetrate John’s mind enough for him to release his aching fingers, grasping for that lithe body on his lap as if it was a lifeline in stormy waters. The skin felt incredibly smooth and for a moment John just lightly ran his fingers over it. This had been what he wanted to do, hadn’t it? It should be enough but he wanted more. A glance towards Sherlock’s fogged eyes told him, he wasn’t the only one feeling that way. Deftly, he used one arm around the other’s waist to support him before bringing his hand up rub at a nipple which just had been sitting in front of his face too teasingly. The loud moan was sufficient encouragement for John to continue, letting his hand explore Sherlock’s body while he watched the beautiful face contort in pleasure.

“Would you stop…“ Sherlock breathed and had to stop when John’s mouth on his neck wrenched a desperate groan from him, “Would you stop teasing me already?”

“It’s only payback” John grinned, sinking his teeth into the unblemished skin between shoulder and neck. Sherlock’s voice was even more breath-taking when reduced to mewls and whimpers in John’s opinion.

“You knew what you agreed to” Sherlock moaned in his defence.

“Oh, but did I really?” John hummed, his parts of clarity returning gradually now that he was allowed to satisfy himself a bit. Mercifully, Sherlock’s shirt had already come off but the tight pants were still firmly in their place.

“You did see me work previously”, Sherlock hummed, his own hands now working down John’s body and sneaking under the layer of his shirt. Feeling those long digits on the skin of his belly made John suck in a harsh breath.

“It wasn’t even close to this” John growled, his fingers battling with the closures to Sherlock’s trousers. It might look good but it was ridiculously complicated to get it out of the way.

Sherlock chuckled deeply and raised his hips a little to make access easier. “I wasn’t payed to interest you, after all”

John had to nod in acknowledgement. Sherlock was right it had been for Sarah but still, how could he have ever guessed what the other was really capable off from that bit of a tease?

 

Finally, he managed to get one hand down the front of Sherlock’s trousers, which made him immediately crumple against his chest. Right next to his ear Sherlock’s deep, rumbling moan sounded even more indecent than before. It seemed to John as if all that brilliant body control had gone out the window with his first full stroke down the length of Sherlock’s cock. His body was quivering and twitching where he sat on John’s lap.

“Oh god, more please”, Sherlock moaned and pressed his face into the crock between John’s neck and shoulder. John felt the short breaths and small whimpers hit his skin and had to bite his own lip. He had never thought that having someone come completely undone in your lap with only a hand job could be this hot. Sherlock’s body, with his hands clinging onto John for dear life, taught him otherwise.

“Yes, just a bit…” Sherlock whispered almost deliriously before John felt that tell-tale tightening.

“Just let go” John hummed, pressing his lips against Sherlock’s neck as he tightened his grip more on the upstroke.

A guttural moan was pulled from Sherlock’s throat as came in hot ribbons over John’s hand. His body first going incredibly rigid, then relaxing completely as he panted and came back down from his high.

 

John was really feeling the pressure now and was already debating when it would be acceptable to relief himself. Sherlock felt all limp against his body and he feared if he took away his stabilising hands, the other would simply slip off his lap.

“You don’t really think I would allow you having to get yourself off after that”, Sherlock’s voice rumbled, lips right next to John’s ear as he pulled himself up a bit.

A shiver ran along John’s spine at the pure thought of the other’s elegant hands wrapped around his cock. His mind helpfully displayed a few more scenarios it also wouldn’t be adverse to.

“That’s the art of the tease”, Sherlock hummed running his fingers down John’s torso before undoing the top of his jeans, “You allude to a lot more but don’t give it all. It makes it so more intense when you finally get it.” While he spoke his fingers were just dancing around the unfastened top of the jeans. John sighed softly when just a sliver of skin was touched. He feared that by now he was geared up enough that just the right words, spoken in that voice would tip him over the edge.

“You’re a marvel John Watson” Sherlock hummed, “You have all the right to be impatient and still you’re here, reasonably calm, no pushing. What immaculate control you have.”

John wasn’t sure if Sherlock was really talking about him, because he felt like he was about to vibrate out of his skin. The teasing touches were maddening. Those fingers always skimming just past where John would love to feel them.

“Come on, give me a bit more to work with” Sherlock grinned, his hand suddenly pressing against John’s hard cock under the layers of clothes. John moaned loudly and threw his head back. “There we are”, Sherlock growled triumphantly, pulling a string of moans from John as he continued to massage the other’s cock. “God, I could keep you here forever and you wouldn’t do a thing”

John’s whimper had apparently been enough to convince Sherlock of another tactic, since he chuckled. “Well, it’s getting late so perhaps we should get on with it.”

Way too elegantly for the state they were in, Sherlock slid off John’s lap and got comfortable between his legs. While his hands were slowly dragged up John’s thighs, he murmured “Doctor, health conscious, mandatory employee screening at the surgery, last sexual partner four month prior, female. You’ve last been tested three weeks ago, correct?”

The question was a bit lost on John since all his senses seemed to have concentrated down to the points where the slim hands were touching his body. His arousal seemed to have taken back the control over his brain.

“I’ll need this bit of information confirmed” Sherlock nearly purred, rubbing his cheek against the inside of John’s thigh.

“What? Jesus…” John asked breathless and couldn’t quite compute the sight of Sherlock on his knees, taking up the space between his thighs and practically nuzzling his groin.

“STD tested three weeks ago” Sherlock hummed and fluttered his eyelashes.

“Yes, clean” John choked out, entirely too eager for this to continue. Sherlock’s mouth talking was impressive but John guessed wrapped around his cock it would look more stunning.

“Good” Sherlock almost pounced with the confirmation, making quick work of getting John’s cock in his hands. John wasn’t sure who moaned louder when Sherlock tightly pressed his lips over the tip of it. The tight, wet heat combined with the strong grip around his base made John go utterly putty. No one could have withstood the cheeky look Sherlock shot John before he let the other’s cock push down to the back of his throat. Out of reflex, John’s hand flew to the back of Sherlock’s head, gently scraping his fingers against the neck. For a short moment he was surprised at the silky texture of the dark hair but Sherlock quickly got his attention back with swallowing around his cock hard.

“Oh fuck” John groaned loudly. “Fuck, even at this you’re fantastic… uhg” He couldn’t really talk but he needed to get this out. Sherlock seemed to be giving him a generous amount of care and it seemed wrong to be ungrateful. Seeing those pale lips stretched around the shaft of his cock, let John’s eyes glaze over. There wasn’t a single thing about this which wouldn’t push him directly towards his orgasm.

If he had been a bit more aware, John would have been in awe of how quickly Sherlock had sussed out all the small moves which drove him mad. He kept up a relentless rhythm which wasn’t too fast but gave the opportunity to let his tongue do amazing little tricks. It made John feel completely lost in the sensations, his hand in Sherlock’s hair the only thing keeping him grounded in the moment. There were good blow jobs and then there was this. This was just bone melting witchcraft. John was sure that he could come any minute. The arousal having built up for too long over the evening now. Something inside him was against that, though. John didn’t know why. He only knew that he needed Sherlock up there with him.

A rough pull later, the other was back on his lap, their mouths pressed together hastily. Their bodies fitting back together in the new position seamlessly. Like this John could feel that long body again, holding him with one arm, the other hand still buried in that nest of curls. He would never let go of them.

“Just a bit more, good you’re beautiful”, John mumbled between kisses, pushing his hips up to meet the strokes of Sherlock’s strong hand. It only took a few more pulls, before John came, moaning into Sherlock’s mouth while his hand was clenched in the luscious curls.

 

For a while there was no sounds except their heavy breathing. They were still seated on the kitchen chair and slowly John felt his legs growing numb from being pressed against the hard wood by Sherlock’s weight. But as reality kicked in again, John feared one move would destroy everything and he wasn’t ready for that yet. So, he banished the discomfort from his mind until Sherlock broke the silence.

“That was interesting” Sherlock panted. There was a nearly gleeful smile painted on his lips which confused John. He had heard his fair share of first post-coital words but this was new.

Therefore he asked for clarification “Interesting?”

Sherlock hummed in confirmation, eyes dancing over the other’s face and chest as if he was searching for something, “That shouldn’t have happened”

“Well, I’m sorry, I know it was against your rules but…” John quickly held up his hands, pulling them away from Sherlock’s body. His mind still wasn’t in the loop and this was the first thing which he remembered.

“Stupid” Sherlock shot him a slightly annoyed look, “This is not about a rule.”

“Pardon me if I don’t fully understand then” John huffed, hands sinking to his side.

Sherlock pressed his index finger against John’s still clothed chest. “You”, he began and let his finger circle over one pectoral muscle before drawing up over John’s neck towards his lips. The softness in his gaze kept John from pushing him away.  “How did you do this?” To John’s amazement there was no mockery in Sherlock’s voice. It seemed as if he honestly was looking for an answer.

“I don’t know what you mean”, John hesitated, then rested his hands on Sherlock’s thighs.

Sherlock looked him straight in the eyes, “I’ve been dancing for years. Everyone is dull and predictable. Within half a minute there is nothing new about them. Yet here you are. You should have been so ordinary, so easy to please.”

“Well, I can’t say you didn’t manage to please me.” John interjected. Actually, the thought back at what they had just done, still made his head turn.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and chuckled, “It’s not what I meant. I thought I could prove my point within three minutes and be done. But now I find there is so much I still haven’t figured out.”

“Ruining you streak then?” John smiled sheepishly.

“I have no problem with that” Sherlock smirked, running his hand along John’s jawline to the back of his head to pull him closer, “I might even be glad you did.”

John’s arms closed around Sherlock’s waist as they kissed again. Before it all had been a frenzy of hands and lips and bites and the need to get closer quickly. Now, they were basking in a languid slide of their lips against each other. With hearts which were not racing anymore but comfortably beating back at resting pace, it was a whole other experience.

 

“What’s your answer then?” Sherlock hummed, pulling back just a fraction.

“Answer?” John really could do with a less mentally challenging task at the moment.

“Originally, I did this to prove that my dancing is worth more than a _fine_ in your books”, Sherlock graciously reminded him of his poor choice of words earlier “So, I ask again John Watson: How did you like it?”

John looked at Sherlock who was still sitting on his lap. They were both thoroughly dishevelled, covered in drying cum and John couldn’t remember when he had been happier. He liked his tongue over his bottom lip before saying “What answer gets me more of this?”


End file.
